


A Concise History of Cybertronian Con Artists

by Decepticonsensual



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-11
Updated: 2013-11-11
Packaged: 2018-01-01 05:14:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1040772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Decepticonsensual/pseuds/Decepticonsensual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chromedome and Rewind go undercover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Concise History of Cybertronian Con Artists

“Now, just remember – you shut up, and let _me_ do the talking.”

“You act like I’m going to just blurt out that we’re cops, or something,” Rewind grumbles.

“Okay, first of all, we’re _not_ cops.  I’m a rusty ex-cop and you’ve never done anything clandestine before, so excuse me if I’m just a _little_ bit edgy.  Second of all, I know guys like these.  One wrong word, and –”

“I get it, Domey – I do!  All I’m saying is, _trust me_.”  A small hand slips inside a larger one, and squeezes.  “We’re gonna get through this.”

Chromedome hisses out a vent.  “Frag, I hope so.  Here goes.”  With a flourish, he throws open the door to the warehouse and saunters inside.  No one would even recognise the jittery mech from a moment before in this confident figure with his graceful, dangerous strut.  Rewind has to admit, as he quickens his pace to keep up, that his _conjunx_ is pretty damned hot when he gets into character.

One of the goons loading the flatbed truck at the back turns towards them, the Deceptibrand on his shoulder plating flashing ominously in the glare of the neon lights.  “You must be the cleanup guy.  The boss said you were coming.”

“Call me Needles.”  Even Chromedome’s voice is different, smooth and insinuating instead of gravelly.  He nods towards Rewind.  “My associate.”  Rewind squares his shoulders and tries to look menacing.

“Uh-huh.  Well, listen, Needles – schedule’s been moved up.  We gotta get you down to Iacon.  This thing is going down this afternoon, and there’s an awful lot of people who are gonna need their processors wiped if we’re gonna be able to get this baby into the Prime’s base without getting detected.”  He pats a squat, ugly device that’s strapped securely to the back of the truck.

Rewind carefully zooms in with his camera.  “Is that a Mark 4?” he asks chipperly.

“Mark 5 – fragger’s got a payload big enough to take out the Autobots and three city blocks besides.”  The goon squints.  “You know explosives, buddy?”

“He knows everything.  It’s why I keep him around,” Chromedome says distractedly.  “This afternoon?  Your boss told _me_ it wasn’t supposed to happen until next week.”

“Plans change.  We gotta stay ahead of the Auto-afts, right?  Hey, you got the rest of the kit packed?”  This last is directed to a second Decepticon, who is climbing out of the truck’s cab.

As soon as the first goon’s back is turned, Chromedome shoots Rewind a panicked look.  The Autobot security forces aren’t expecting them for days, and if they aren’t ready, there’s every chance that the bomb is going to slip right past their defences.

“You bet, mech,” the second goon drawls, and Rewind whips his head around.

“That accent!  You’re from Polyhex, aren’t you, pal?”

“Yeah?  What of it?”  The mech looks at him uncertainly, and the first goon, who’s clearly in charge, gives Rewind a sour look.  Chromedome can barely restrain himself from fidgeting as he thinks, _What the frag are you doing?_ at Rewind so hard it’s a wonder the back of Rewind’s helm doesn’t catch fire.

“What _of_ it?  Come on, mech, have a little pride – your city was the site of the second-greatest con in Cybertronian history!”  Rewind flings his arms wide.   “Are you telling me you don’t know the story of the Senator, the turbo-fox colony, the truckload of brake fluid, and Quick-Fingers Quantum, the most famous pickpocket who ever lived?”

The ’Con from Polyhex looks enraptured, and the other goons have stopped working to listen.  The leader growls, “Look, tell it on the way.  We need to roll.”

“Aww, no fair!  We’re going in the other transport – we won’t get to hear it!” one of the Decepticons whines.

“And it _is_ better with visuals,” Rewind chips in, turning his projector on temptingly.

“Five minutes, Boss?” the Polyhexian pleads.

The flatbed truck itself pipes up, startling Chromedome and Rewind.  “I say no one is rolling anywhere until we hear this story.”

“ _Fine_ ,” the leader all but spits, but he, too, turns to watch as Rewind finds a blank piece of wall and starts showing film.  “It all began…”

Chromedome has just enough time to sneak away and make the call without being seen.  When they get to Iacon, a dozen Autobot soldiers are waiting to take the ’Cons into custody.  As soon as he and Rewind are safe in the Autobot base, Chromedome scoops him up and kisses him fervently.  “I take it back!  Rewind, never, _ever_ shut up!”

Rewind gets a wicked glint in his visor.  “Sure thing… Domey, my schmoopie-poo widdle love-goodie –”

“I have made a _serious_ error,” Chromedome groans at the growing pile of endearments.  Rewind breaks off in a laugh, and holds Chromedome close.


End file.
